


Totally Plausible (2006)

by strawberryelfsp (berreh)



Category: MythBusters RPF
Genre: Banter, Crack Relationships, F/M, First Kiss, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Mostly Gen, Two Lines Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8135192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berreh/pseuds/strawberryelfsp
Summary: Kari is excited about her FHM photo shoot. (written October 27, 2006 for shanalle's Two Lines Challenge.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> A total crack pairing - mostly I just wanted to see if I could pull it off. (And yes, I know Scottie and Grant weren't on the show at the same time. They are in my world.)

_everybody wants to be just like me_  
_i’m naked and famous_  
–presidents of the united states of america, ‘naked and famous’

~

“Oh my gosh, you guys, it’s here!”

The sound of the lathe drowned out Kari’s voice. Tory pulled off his earphones and shouted over the noise. “What?”

Kari held out the brown envelope at arm’s length. “I said it’s here!”

Tory elbowed Adam, who glanced up from the spinning lathe and raised an eyebrow at the sight of Kari bouncing on the balls of her feet, waving the envelope. Into his ear Tory yelled, “The mail came.”

Adam pulled the earphone off. “What?”

“I SAID THE MAIL CAME!”

“Oh.” Adam hit the switch and the lathe ground to a whiny halt.

“Come on you guys!” Kari was hopping up and down now, pulling at the envelope’s seal. “Check it out!”

“Alright, alright,” said Tory. He pushed his goggles up until they stuck in his hair and tossed his gloves on the counter. “Keep your panties on.”

“Put it over there on the draft table before you pull out all the power cords,” said Adam. “Where’s everybody else?”

“GRANT SCOTTIE JAMIE GET YOUR ASSES IN HERE!”

Adam wiggled a finger in one ear. “Yes, thank you, Tory.”

Brushing the lathe dust from their clothes, they followed Kari out of the work station; she was still bouncing in her Doc Martens, squeaking with joy as she tore into the manila packaging. Jamie was sitting on the far side of the drafting table, squinting through a magnifying glass at the fine electrical soldering he’d been working on all afternoon. He glanced up as the noisy party approached, then frowned and returned to his work.

“Jamie, it’s here!” Kari cried, waving the envelope. Before Jamie could reply, Grant and Scottie emerged from one of the storage rooms. Scottie was wiping grease from her hands with a towel. “What’s all the racket in here?” Seeing what was in Kari’s hands, she grinned. “So it finally got here, huh? Well, let’s see it! Rip that bad boy open!”

Kari put her hand inside the envelope – and paused. She’d been waiting for this moment for weeks, but now that it had finally arrived she found herself hesitating. What if it sucked? What if she looked like a big dorky goober? What if Tory laughed at her? What if Adam and Jamie didn’t approve?

“Come on, Kari, don’t leave us hangin!” Scottie said.

“Yeah,” said Tory, “You didn’t stop us all working for nothin.”

“As if you needed a reason for another break,” Grant said.

Kari pulled out the envelope’s contents and placed it on the table. The magazine was brand new, extra glossy in the studio‘s track lighting. A green Post-It note stuck out from the pages; Kari flipped to the marked spot and laid the magazine open for all to see.

“Holy shit, Kerr!” cried Scottie. “You look amazing!”

Tory and Adam leaned in for a closer look. Adam was nodding; Tory whistled and slapped Kari on the shoulder. “Well done, lady, that is quite the awesome.”

She couldn’t believe it was really her – her, Kari Byron, transformed from geek to pinup, airbrushed to a gleam and winking coyly from the pages of an FHM layout. The pictures were even better than she’d hoped: not too posed, not too fake, just over-the-top enough to be funny. She was pretty sure they’d given her far more cleavage than God did, but that was okay – all in the name of public relations, right? For a minute she just stood there, staring at the shiny fashion-model version of herself, with one hand over her mouth and a big stupid grin on her face.

“Well, say something,” Adam said. “Whaddya think?”

“What do _you_ think?” she said.

He gave her a 100-watt smile. “I think it’s awesome.”

She clapped her hands and squealed with delight, making everyone laugh again.

“What say, G?” Scottie said to Grant. “Did you know Byron had tits like that?”

“Scottie!” Grant’s cheeks flushed, and Scottie laughed.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be embarrassed! We’re all grownups here.” She grabbed Grant around the shoulder and smiled at Kari. “Go on, tell the girl she looks alright.”

“Yes, congratulations, Miss Byron,” Adam said. “You have now officially arrived. Getting naked in men’s magazines is the final step into pop culture infamy.”

“She’s not naked! She’s fully clothed!” said Scottie. “Well, mostly. And don’t tell me that if you had the chance you wouldn’t do the same.”

“He already does,” said Tory. “Didn’t you see him at the pier yesterday?” He and Grant began mimicking Adam as he disrobed for the swimming experiment the day before, glorying in his luminescent white flesh displayed for all to see.

“I’m serious,” Adam said. “If you’re nobody and you take your clothes off, that’s objectification. If you’re naked and famous— _that’s_ success.”

Grant, Tory, and Scottie applauded, while Kari took a theatrical bow. Reaching for the magazine, Scottie said, “Hey Jamie, did you get a look?” She slid it across the table toward him. “Did you see how hot Miss Kari is?”

Jamie didn’t look up from his tools, frowning down at the delicate circuits beneath his magnifying glass. “I’m working.”

“C’mon, Jamie, she’s reeeeally purrrty.” Scottie wiggled the pages in front of him – when he didn’t react, she held the magazine up in front of her nose and spoke in a coy falsetto. “Hi, Jamieeee, see how preeeetty I am? See how short my lab coat is?”

Jamie stood up abruptly and yanked the soldering iron from its socket. “For God’s sake, I said I’m working. Some of us actually have jobs to do around here.” Without another word he scooped up his toolkit and stalked off toward his office.

“Who pissed in his Cheerios?” Scottie said.

“Don’t mind him,” said Grant. “He’s been weird all day.”

They went back to chattering over the photos, but Kari watched Jamie’s door close and then looked over at Adam. He shook his head at her with an expression that said _don’t worry about it_ , and then Tory said something inappropriate and they all started laughing again, and Kari leaned over the table to read through the article with Scottie.

~

“Pull it tighter, Kari!” Adam yelled.

“I am!” Kari yelled back.

The rig creaked and groaned under the strain – they shifted their weight and tried again. The pulley turned another inch and drew the plastic tubing even tighter between them. There was no way it was going to hold under that much pressure, but Adam had that look on his face, The Look, that determined, half-crazed scowl that said I-will-make-this-thing-work-or-kill-you-all-trying. They braced their feet and yanked the pulleys one more time. Kari was thinking to herself _Man, I bet surgical tubing would really hurt if it–_ when the whole rig tilted and a sound like a gunshot whipped through the workshop.

“Ow!”

She sat down hard and grabbed her right ankle; the rig crashed to the floor behind her to the sound of Adam swearing and production assistants running for cover. Kari felt tears pricking behind her eyes; she peeled her hand back from its death grip and risked a peek. The tubing had caught her across the tendon and her ankle was already swelling, marked with a nasty red welt between the cuff of her chinos and the frayed top of her Chuck Taylors. Her foot had gone numb from the shock of the blow; she tried to wiggle her toes and couldn’t.

Adam and Grant were crouching beside her before her yelp had finished echoing off the rafters. Grant’s hands were on her shoulders to stop her falling over, and The Look had vanished from Adam’s face.

“Are you alright?”

“It’s not bleeding.” She pulled back her hand to show them, and Grant grimaced.

“Jesus. Come on, let’s get you inside. Can you walk?”

“Don’t try,” Adam said. She could hear his dad voice coming out and smiled despite her pain.

They helped her, one on each side, hopping her way into the inner offices where the first aid kits were kept. Across the studio she could hear techs and interns murmuring, and she didn’t need to crane her neck to see the camera man trailing behind them. She made a mental note to call her mom and tell her which episode not to watch.

Jamie opened the door to let them in. He already had his business face on – which, when Kari thought about it, probably wasn’t much different from his pleasure face. She choked back a giggle at the thought and Jamie raised an eyebrow at her as they passed.

“What happened?”

“Pulley rig broke,” Adam said. “The tubing got her across the ankle.”

“It’s OK,” Kari said quickly. She enjoyed being the girly-girl around this place, but not when they were all looking at her like that. “I’m fine. Nothing’s broken.”

“You don’t know that for sure. There’s a lot of force in that thing.” Jamie cleared a stack of folders off his desk. “Let me see.”

“You want me to sit on your desk?”

“Would you rather I called the EMTs?”

Kari sat on the desk, using Adam and Grant’s shoulders to boost herself up while Jamie rolled up his shirt sleeves. The camera man moved in for a closer shot; Jamie glared at him and he quickly retreted.

“Adam, get me the compression bandage out of the kitchen kit, will ya?”

“I’ll grab some ice,” said Grant. He and Adam left the office in opposite directions, the camera man made a discreet exit, and the room grew decidedly quieter.

Jamie jerked the lace of Kari’s shoe and she flinched. “Ow! That hurts!”

“Then hold still.” He picked at the knot to untie it, but his blunt fingers wouldn’t fit through the loops.

“Here, let me do it.” She reached down between his fingers and slipped the laces free. Jamie pulled off her shoe and she bit back a yelp. She didn’t want to be a wuss around Jamie. Time to suck it up. She was just glad her feet didn’t smell too bad today.

The shock of the blow was wearing off, and her ankle was now starting to throb with a slow, ominous pain. She knew it wasn’t broken, but she sure wasn’t looking forward to waking up tomorrow morning.

Below her Jamie was grumbling in irritation. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, use proper safety gear.”

“I’m sorry, Dad, I forgot my ankle helmet this morning.”

She grinned down at him, but he was not smiling. The furrow between his brows had turned into Red Rock Canyon. Her grin disappeared.

He took her foot in his right hand; his fingers went all the way around the sole and met at the top of her instep. He wrapped his left hand around her calf just below the cuff of her chinos and eased her foot upward. It hurt like hell, but nothing made any unnatural noises. She felt his fingers flex, one by one, tiny variations of pressure as he adjusted his grip. Up – down – left – right – a slow circle through the full range of motion. The circulation was coming back in prickly waves, and her skin grew warm beneath his fingers. She could feel her heartbeat thumping in the welt beneath his palm.

“No breaks,” Jamie said.

“Why thank you, Mr. Willoughby.”

His eyebrow quirked, and she couldn’t hide her grin.

“From the book?”

From the corner of her eye she saw Adam and Grant approaching the office door. Leaning back on her palms on top of his paperwork she said more loudly, “But I forgot Navy SEALs can’t read.”

His mustache twitched exactly as she expected, ruffled by an indignant snort, and she smiled as the boys blustered through the door. Jamie‘s face flushed like it always did when he was readying a dry retort, but the comeback never came; instead he just looked at her, the unused wit twinkling in his eye, and she blinked down at him until Adam slammed the roll of bandages onto the desk beside her and made her jump.

“Do we get to amputate?”

She found his concern truly moving. He had a new pulley in his other hand, and The Look was steadily returning to his face. In the standard response, Jamie rolled his eyes and frowned.

“I think she’ll pull through. I’d sue your ass if I were her, though.”

“Hey, I had everything under control out there–”

“Yeah, I saw your ‘control’ and I told you you can’t–”

“Don’t even start that shit with me because I–”

They yelled at each other for the next five minutes while the entire production crew watched from the other side of the glass. The sheer volume and creative use of swearing was so entertaining that it took a few minutes for Kari to realize Jamie’s hand was still on her calf. He bound her ankle perfectly while arguing with Adam, without even looking at her. As the bandage wrapped around the bruise, his thumb moved in a tiny, soothing circle across her skin. He never stopped yelling.

~

“Here, Miss Byron, this one’s yours.”

Kari raised her head from the table long enough to squint at the cup in front of her. “No, that’s Grant’s.” She put her head back into the pillow of her arms; she was so glad she’d chosen these arm-warmers today. They were most comfy.

The intern re-read the scribbled Sharpie on the paper cup. “Oh, right, my bad.” He handed the cup to Grant, who took it gratefully. “One large decaf mocha with Splenda.”

“Doesn’t that stuff give you head cancer?” said Tory.

“Sugar makes my hands shake,” replied Grant. “I can risk the head cancer or I can let Adam wire the explosive switches.”

“Splenda. Mmmm.”

The intern handed Tory his cup next: “One large mocha, double shot, extra whip, extra chocolate.” Tory scooped a blob of whipped cream from the top and shoved his finger into his mouth. Kari, who had raised her head again, grimaced in disgust.

“OK, this one’s yours, Miss Byron. Medium caramel macchiato, sugar free, soy milk.”

“Ugh, talk about head cancer,” said Tory.

She opened her mouth to reply and he stuck out his chocolate-and-whipped-cream coated tongue at her. She shuddered and drank her coffee. This was so not in her contract.

“Mr. Savage – house blend, black, extra strong, and I am totally not cleaning your bathroom today.”

Adam pushed back his hat and took a huge gulp. “Mmmm, colonically delicious.”

The intern traded a look of horror with Grant and then passed a cup to Scottie. “One chai latte, extra cinnamon.” He plucked the last cup from the container and tossed the holder into the recycling. “And an herbal tea for Mr. Hyneman, no sugar. Catch y‘all later, my work here is done.”

When the intern had scampered away, Scottie stifled a yawn. “I don’t know how that kid can be so chipper this early in the morning.”

“That’s why we pay him the big bucks,” said Adam.

“We don’t pay him,” said Jamie.

“I know. Ahahaha!”

Kari leaned on one elbow across the table and sipped her coffee. These early-morning meetings were a total pain in the ass. But, it was either that or start the day after the camera crew arrived, and nobody wanted to be seen on TV pre-morning-beverage, so this sneaky solution had become a necessary evil. After half a cup of macchiato she was starting to feel more awake, but it was ungodly how some of these guys were such morning people. Especially Adam, who suddenly thwacked his palms on the table and nearly made her spill her drink on her arm-warmers.

“OK! Let’s get this show on the road. We’re late already and the crew’ll be here any minute – I’d really like to have a game plan before the producer’s meeting.”

Scottie blew across the top of her chai. “What do we got?”

Adam fished through the pile strewn across the table – folders, notebooks, Post-It notes, production memos. “If we want to do the detonation today we’re going to have to get some other stuff done this morning. Those foam cubes need to be cut so the techs can start painting them, and Tory’s molds have to come out of chill. How are the gear sets?”

“I can finish the frames in an hour. I just need the fuses so I can thread them through in time for the detonation.”

“I’m almost done with those,” said Grant. “If everything’s set up we can do the detonation this afternoon.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” said Tory. “We haven’t blown shit up in almost a week. I’m getting blueballs over here.”

“TMI, TMI,” said Kari.

“We can’t do the detonation today.” Jamie took a sip of tea and daubed his mustache with his thumb. “The circuitry for the robot experiment still has to be tested, and we can’t spare enough people for a proper setup.”

“Sure we can,” said Adam.“We can push the circuit test back to Thursday, get the production assistants to cut the cubes this morning, and put all the main crew on the detonation.”

Jamie shook his head. “Those gear sets have to be completely finished if we want a decent result. And Kari’s ankle still isn’t 100% – we need everyone on their feet if we’re gonna fire anything dangerous.”

 _Oh, great,_ thought Kari. _Now I’m the reason nobody gets to play with explosives today. Thanks a lot, Jamie._ No way was she going to let that go without a protest. She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could comment Scottie beat her to it.

“So I put off the mechanics till tomorrow and help Grant finish the gears, the rest of you set up the blast site, and when we fire you can keep Kari at your station where it’s safest.” She smirked at Kari. “Can’t leave the feeble females unattended, now can we?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Grant. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Anything to keep Tory from mentioning his balls ever ever again.”

They all looked at Tory, who had his empty cup upended over his mouth to catch drops of chocolate on his outstretched tongue. He saw them watching and wiped his mouth. “What?”

Adam shrugged. “Fine with me. Jamie?”

Jamie glared down at the production schedule, his arms crossed, one finger tapping against the side of his cup. Finally he nodded. “OK. Let’s set it up. Grant and Scottie can finish the prep, Adam and Tory can set up the perimeter and take the blast shield on the right, and I’ll take the firing switch from the left side with Kari.”

“Right on!” Scottie tossed her empty cup into the trash. “C’mon G, we got plenty of time to get our build on and still watch the big boom.”

Adam made a few notes and gathered up the piles of paper. “I’ll call the fire crew and tell them to set up for a 4:00 detonation.”

Jamie picked up his folders and tucked his tea cup into the crook of his arm. He stuck his pen into the gap between his beret and his glasses. “Kari, you’re with me at 2:30 for setup.”

She put her cup on the table and clicked her heels together, saluting him with one pink-and-black-striped arm. “Yes sir, oh captain my captain!”

He blinked at her, then shook his head before walking away. She held the salute until he was halfway down the hall, then turned toward the supply closet, still grinning. Scottie was still leaning across the table, watching them; when Jamie had gone, she winked at Kari from beneath her kerchief and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“Don’t say I never gave you nothin.”

Kari dropped her arm and her grin. Still smirking, Scottie sauntered off to the gear bay. Kari drank the rest of her coffee and threw the cup away before heading to the supply closet as the camera crew began to file in.

~

“Has anybody seen my welding gloves?”

Nobody had, apparently – not the camera guys smoking cigarettes behind the holding bay, not the gaggle of interns burning popcorn in the kitchen, not the researchers leaning back in their chairs one by one as Kari scuttled breathlessly down the hallway.

“Have you seen my welding gloves?”

“No, sorry, I sure haven’t.”

“Welding gloves? Anyone?”

“Sorry, Miss Byron.”

From across the studio came an impatient shout from Tory. “Come on, Byron, we’re waiting for you, get a move on!”

“Shut up, I’ll be there in a second!”

“Just grab some gloves and let’s go!”

Kari scowled as she checked a set of cubbyholes. “I don’t want A pair of gloves. I want MY pair of gloves.” She stooped over a box of junk and started ransacking it, tossing items into the hall behind her. “That’s why I refer to them as MY gloves, because I prefer them over other gloves and did in fact purchase them for my very own.”

“Come on, Kari, let’s go, the clock is ticking!”

She stood up and yelled. “Well then you can just take the clock and shove it straight up your– oh, hey Jamie.”

He was coming out of the printing room, thumbing through some papers. He glanced at the path of destruction around her.

“Problems?”

“Have you seen my welding gloves? I can’t find them anywhere.”

“Nope, sure haven’t. Can’t you just grab some spares?”

“No way, dude. They’re all too big, and plus Tory wears them every day and I don’t even want to think about where his hands have been.”

Jamie snorted. “Can’t argue with you there.”

She bent over and started retrieving the things she’d scattered across the hall, tossing them back into the storage box. Her hair was starting to fall from its ponytail; she swiped her bangs from her face with the back of one hand.

_“Kaaarrriiiiiii—”_

“I SAID I’M COMING!” From the next room came the sound of breaking glass as an intern dropped a popcorn bowl. Jamie’s snort became a chuckle.

“Look, I just got a shipment of stuff yesterday – it’s in a box behind my desk. I know there’s a size small glove in there. Just go get them. Find yours later.”

She dumped an armful of junk into the box and smiled. “Oh, thanks, Jamie, you’re a lifesaver. I’ll put them back this afternoon.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just get that welding done so we can get to the blowing-stuff-up part.” Opening his folder he walked off toward the research room, pushing his glasses up on his nose, absorbed again in what he was reading.

Kari shoved the lid back on the box and sprinted down the hall to Jamie’s office. She flicked the lights on and looked around until she spotted a freshly-opened UPS box in the corner. Digging around inside she found an assortment of gloves, including several smalls, which nobody wore but her. She pulled out a pair, shut the box, and turned to scurry out before Tory burst a blood vessel waiting for her to return.

Jamie’s desk was spotless as usual, papers and office supplies all arranged in perfect order, a pile of books and magazines stacked tidily on one corner. Kari stopped in her tracks, her eyes going wide. She tilted her head to read the magazine spines lined up beneath some sci-fi novels and a sticky-note pad — Popular Mechanics, Natural History Today, The Journal of Mechanical Engineering, Top Gear Year in Review, and on top of them all, bookmarked with a paperclip, the June 2006 issue of FHM.

_“Kari, where the hell are you?!”_

She jerked and looked up, craning her neck to yell through the open door. “I’m on my way!” She stuck the gloves under her arm and left the office just as she’d found it, turning off the lights behind her. Halfway out the door, she realized she was laughing.

~

“You guys reading everything OK?”

“Roger that, Adam, radio’s working fine.”

“Perimeter, how we doing?”

“You’re all clear from this point; detonation is go.”

“Cameras?”

“We’re good, we’re rolling, all set.”

“Roger that. OK, people, let’s do this! Fire in the hole!”

“Fire in the hole!”

“Detonation number two, circuitry explosion, and 3...2...1...”

The shock wave rattled the safety shield an inch closer to Kari’s face. An instant later the sound of it blasted past her earphones. _Thwoooom._ An orange fireball uncurled in a perfect roar into the clear blue afternoon sky. Kari screamed.

“Yes! YES!! Wooooo!”

She could hear the boys whooping from across the parking lot as random crew members cheered from various corners of the bay. Shrapnel began to rain down onto the pavement as the smell of burnt powder stung Kari’s nose. Beside her, Jamie was laughing.

“That. Was. Awesome! Jamie, did you see that?!”

“Yes, well, I did pull the trigger.”

Kari pushed her hair back from her face with both hands, still laughing in exuberance. The camera crew, satisfied with their reaction shots, left them alone and headed over to the blast site to get footage of the damage. The interns who had congregated to watch began filing back into the building, chatting amongst themselves. Through the radio came Adam’s tinny but ecstatic voice.

“That frigging rocked! Let’s do it again!”

“Get it cleared up and we’ll reset,” said Jamie. “Twenty minutes to second fire.”

Kari leaned against the blast shield, pulling her earphones down around her neck as she tried to catch her breath.

“That was so cool. Did you see the smoke? I bet the fuse was– ow, shit!”

The healing scab on her ankle scraped a hinge and she jerked, losing her balance and sitting down hard on the pavement. Jamie grabbed her to keep her from falling over.

“Easy there, Sparky, don’t kill yourself with the excitement.”

She was too stoked for it to have really hurt. Still high from the explosion and the rush of an experiment well done, the old joke came out before she even realized it.

“Captain, being held by you isn’t quite enough to get me excited.”

She waited for a sarcastic smirk, or a gruff mumble as he turned away in exasperation. He did neither. His hands were still on her arms, holding her steady. A second ticked by, then another. Kari felt giddy, all the little hints and clues, the bits and pieces from the past few weeks catching up with her all at once. It was too much to contain. Fearlessly, she cocked her head at him and grinned.

“Well? It’s your line.”

She barely had time to gasp before his weight made her back squeak against the battered blast shield. Her sneakers skittered across loose bits of gravel. _What do you know_ , she thought, as her eyes closed and her fingers curled in his white shirt. _He does have lips under there after all._ Jamie tilted his head and moved his hands, and her inner monologue dissolved into radio static.

Her heart was pounding when he finally drew back. His palms lay flat against her rib cage, his thumbs resting just beneath the edge of her black lace bra. They moved with each of her breaths, tiny strokes against her skin. When he smiled, his mustache tickled the corners of her mouth.

“Sorry, sweetheart, we don’t have time for anything else.”

Kari looked up into Jamie’s face. A fresh wave of adrenaline raced in her blood, the exhilaration of playing with a different kind of fire. She shifted against the Plexiglas and grinned, enjoying the thrill of a freshly-lit fuse.

“Looks to me like we have twenty minutes.”


End file.
